Sometimes I freak myself out.
My clock radio just went off in my bedroom, a 3-metreish walk with angled walls in between, and, despite it being set at a fairly low volume, I could sort of hear it. I immediately said to myself, oh, that's Simple Minds doing that terrible song that I don't like. But then I second-guessed myself because my hearing isn't what it used to be. I got closer and, sure enough, it _was_ Simple Minds doing that terrible song that I don't like.
So, either I have a ridiculous skill with identifying music of the '80s (which I suspect) or I'm an all-knowing being (which I sometimes wish for).
When I was younger I would often have dreams that I would remember and then what I dreamt about would happen weeks or months later. Often they weren't important things; generally it was situational with specific conversations. Sometimes it was situations where I could see and hear everything except for the person's face. Those were the ones that really freaked me out.
I had a dream when I was in grade 11 about being in a darkened room with someone talking behind me, saying a very specific phrase. It was odd when I dreamt it because I remembered everything except for the face (I mean, it was behind me). I didn't think of it again until 2 years later when I found myself in the exact situation, with the specific phrase coming from a boyfriend I'd met only a few months before. And as I answered him according to the dream's transcript, I knew what he was going to say before he said it, and he said exactly what he did in the dream. I got those chills I get when I realise I had "a moment."
And when I was around 11 or 12 I could accurately choose numbers for lotteries. My dad would get one number from each of us kids and mine was always one of the numbers called. Sadly, my skills were never exploited so we could actually win the lottery.
I also have a fair bit of deja vu, but not as much as I used to. It's harder to be in-tune with psychic powers in Vancouver; I think the concrete and steel and glass buildings mess things up.
Currently listening :
#3
By Suburban Kids with Biblical Names
Release date: 18 October, 2005
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Monday, June 26, 2006
squirrely
I think maybe I've given the crows a bad rap. They've never actually come that close to attacking me. And the constant caw-cawing might just be their way of saying "hello, Karen" or "we've got your back." I'm going to try not to look freaked out every time I see them and see what happens.
Unrelated, my dad sometimes chases squirrels away from our walnut tree in the back yard. He looks like a crazy old man when he does, but I almost pee my pants because it's so funny. Once he chased a squirrel the length of our yard and yelled at it, like that was going to teach that squirrel a lesson. He's also hung old shirts on the tree and wrapped an old water heater around the trunk to keep the squirrels away, but they're smarter than that. They jump into the tree from the side fence, flying into the branches where it's a free-for-all. Apparently the problem is they bury the walnuts in the lawn, but forget where they've put them and then the lawnmower hits them and it dulls the blade.
I come by the craziness honestly, at least.
Unrelated, my dad sometimes chases squirrels away from our walnut tree in the back yard. He looks like a crazy old man when he does, but I almost pee my pants because it's so funny. Once he chased a squirrel the length of our yard and yelled at it, like that was going to teach that squirrel a lesson. He's also hung old shirts on the tree and wrapped an old water heater around the trunk to keep the squirrels away, but they're smarter than that. They jump into the tree from the side fence, flying into the branches where it's a free-for-all. Apparently the problem is they bury the walnuts in the lawn, but forget where they've put them and then the lawnmower hits them and it dulls the blade.
I come by the craziness honestly, at least.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
going it alone
Tomorrow the CBC is recording Douglas Coupland for North By Northwest and I got a double pass to listen to him read from "J-Pod" and to do a Q&A. I like these readings because it's fairly casual and the authors are generally charming, etc. And I can stock up on CBC stickies and magnifying ruler things. I figured, with Doug being from Vancouver and I and my friends falling into his well-documented Gen X category, that it would be easy to find someone to come with me. I made some calls. I left messages. I hoped for the best.
And nothing. Not a single person to go with.
So then I obviously have to wonder if it's me. Like, I wrack my brain to think of whether or not I've done something thoughtless to every person I called. Could they have been lying about having something better to do? Are they really leaving town on holiday? Maybe I've been making nasty calls in my sleep and they now hate me. I have no idea. But I can't even begin to understand how it could be this hard to utiliize my plus one.
Sure, I didn't call every person on my phone list. That would be silly. No, I stuck with people that probably wouldn't mind last minute (relative to me) plans on a Monday night. People that likely have read Doug's books or have some sort of interest in his art. People that can sit still for an hour-and-a-half. People who won't mind seeing me spaz out and laugh too loud and overreact to things Douglas Coupland says. I see now my error.
I set my standards too high.
Next time I will definitely enquire with the strange guy on the bus that kept walking back and forth before finally plunking down on the seats at the front and lifting his shirt, who then got off the bus at my stop and made the statement that the bus was so damn hot.
It wasn't that hot. It was supposed to be 37'C today (and tomorrow), but I wore a hoodie after work and on the bus home. (Apparently it was 38'C at some point today.) Is it me? It's me, right?
Note to self: be less irrational and people will like you better.
So, unless someone can commit to this thing before 6pm (it starts at 6:30 somewhere downtown), I'm going alone. Which is becoming regular. Like the Grates show next Friday. After which I'll be riding the bus around Skid Row by myself. Good times, all around.
It's time to get more Island Farms frozen yogurt.
And I haven't even gotten into the bride/bridesmaid day yesterday. Maybe that's what's set me off.
Currently listening :
International Breeze
By Postal Blue
Release date: 16 July, 2004
And nothing. Not a single person to go with.
So then I obviously have to wonder if it's me. Like, I wrack my brain to think of whether or not I've done something thoughtless to every person I called. Could they have been lying about having something better to do? Are they really leaving town on holiday? Maybe I've been making nasty calls in my sleep and they now hate me. I have no idea. But I can't even begin to understand how it could be this hard to utiliize my plus one.
Sure, I didn't call every person on my phone list. That would be silly. No, I stuck with people that probably wouldn't mind last minute (relative to me) plans on a Monday night. People that likely have read Doug's books or have some sort of interest in his art. People that can sit still for an hour-and-a-half. People who won't mind seeing me spaz out and laugh too loud and overreact to things Douglas Coupland says. I see now my error.
I set my standards too high.
Next time I will definitely enquire with the strange guy on the bus that kept walking back and forth before finally plunking down on the seats at the front and lifting his shirt, who then got off the bus at my stop and made the statement that the bus was so damn hot.
It wasn't that hot. It was supposed to be 37'C today (and tomorrow), but I wore a hoodie after work and on the bus home. (Apparently it was 38'C at some point today.) Is it me? It's me, right?
Note to self: be less irrational and people will like you better.
So, unless someone can commit to this thing before 6pm (it starts at 6:30 somewhere downtown), I'm going alone. Which is becoming regular. Like the Grates show next Friday. After which I'll be riding the bus around Skid Row by myself. Good times, all around.
It's time to get more Island Farms frozen yogurt.
And I haven't even gotten into the bride/bridesmaid day yesterday. Maybe that's what's set me off.
Currently listening :
International Breeze
By Postal Blue
Release date: 16 July, 2004
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
the hard sell
Some of you may know that I love looking through flyers. It doesn't really matter what kind, but I favour grocery store, department store and hardware store flyers best. This is wasteful and unnecessary, I know, especially since I rarely buy the stuff I see. I still jump with glee (yes, glee!) when I see them shoved into my mailbox.
It's the same with catalogues. Or maybe it's because of catalogues. Being from a small town, it was not unusual to buy shoes and clothing from a catalogue. And especially the Wish Book that Sears sent out in the early fall. I would circle the things I wanted from it, even if I didn't need a ring with my birthstone or heated socks. It's the visual aspect that sucks me in.
I think we established long ago that I'm a sucker for advertising.
I bring this up because I see in the Canadian Tire flyer for this week that they have a family 4-pack of walkie talkies. Oh, how I want walkie talkies for my very own! I know that, by and large, there are few occasions that require the use of walkie talkies, but it's those few occasions that make it necessary to have them. Large outdoor events? Easy peasey. Crowded area? No problem. Anywhere within a 10K radius? Let's talk.
Sure, cell phones do the same thing, but I'm generally opposed to those things. I mean, seriously, have you seen my cell phone? It almost needs a shoulder strap, it's so big. And I refuse to upgrade. You can't make me. Let's just all get walkie talkies and leave it at that, OK?
Also, tomorrow is the NHL Player Awards ceremony at the Centre, right across from my workplace, and they're going to have a Red Carpet! So I'm going in to work early so I can finish early and elbow my way past all those 8-year-old boys. Who's with me?
Currently listening :
Tan Simple Como El Amor
By La Casa Azul
Release date: 23 March, 2004
It's the same with catalogues. Or maybe it's because of catalogues. Being from a small town, it was not unusual to buy shoes and clothing from a catalogue. And especially the Wish Book that Sears sent out in the early fall. I would circle the things I wanted from it, even if I didn't need a ring with my birthstone or heated socks. It's the visual aspect that sucks me in.
I think we established long ago that I'm a sucker for advertising.
I bring this up because I see in the Canadian Tire flyer for this week that they have a family 4-pack of walkie talkies. Oh, how I want walkie talkies for my very own! I know that, by and large, there are few occasions that require the use of walkie talkies, but it's those few occasions that make it necessary to have them. Large outdoor events? Easy peasey. Crowded area? No problem. Anywhere within a 10K radius? Let's talk.
Sure, cell phones do the same thing, but I'm generally opposed to those things. I mean, seriously, have you seen my cell phone? It almost needs a shoulder strap, it's so big. And I refuse to upgrade. You can't make me. Let's just all get walkie talkies and leave it at that, OK?
Also, tomorrow is the NHL Player Awards ceremony at the Centre, right across from my workplace, and they're going to have a Red Carpet! So I'm going in to work early so I can finish early and elbow my way past all those 8-year-old boys. Who's with me?
Currently listening :
Tan Simple Como El Amor
By La Casa Azul
Release date: 23 March, 2004
Saturday, June 17, 2006
be still, my heart
I am in LOVE with Fernando Pisani.
Not only is he the sweetheart of the playoffs, he's from frickin' Castledowns. Some of my best friends are from Castledowns and I've been lost there numerous times. Saying that, I would consider bearing his children if the opportunity arose. Do you hear me?! I, who never want children EVER, would CONSIDER having Pisani's. And I'm not even drunk.
Unrelated, it is unbelievable how pathetic the Hurricanes have been looking. They're getting tired and lazy. They're giving up the dream. They just seem to be getting less and less able to play the game. They've lost the will to play with some heart. This is pleasing. The Oilers kicked their asses so badly that I thought they were going to start crying on the ice.
Oh yes, I watched the game. I wasn't going to because I thought I was cursed, but I turned to it, only to catch the replay of the Pisani goal (call me) and couldn't stop watching.
I know that MacTavish, he of previous helmet-less years as a Stanley Cup Champion, is making these guys hungry for that cup. I want that frickin' cup.
Don Cherry called it: Oilers to win the Stanley Cup.
Currently listening :
Johnny Hanson Presents: Puck Rock, Vol. 1
By Various Artists
Release date: 13 May, 1994
Not only is he the sweetheart of the playoffs, he's from frickin' Castledowns. Some of my best friends are from Castledowns and I've been lost there numerous times. Saying that, I would consider bearing his children if the opportunity arose. Do you hear me?! I, who never want children EVER, would CONSIDER having Pisani's. And I'm not even drunk.
Unrelated, it is unbelievable how pathetic the Hurricanes have been looking. They're getting tired and lazy. They're giving up the dream. They just seem to be getting less and less able to play the game. They've lost the will to play with some heart. This is pleasing. The Oilers kicked their asses so badly that I thought they were going to start crying on the ice.
Oh yes, I watched the game. I wasn't going to because I thought I was cursed, but I turned to it, only to catch the replay of the Pisani goal (call me) and couldn't stop watching.
I know that MacTavish, he of previous helmet-less years as a Stanley Cup Champion, is making these guys hungry for that cup. I want that frickin' cup.
Don Cherry called it: Oilers to win the Stanley Cup.
Currently listening :
Johnny Hanson Presents: Puck Rock, Vol. 1
By Various Artists
Release date: 13 May, 1994
blather
I'm cranked up on Strongbow and Ikea cinnamon buns (lethal combo, I assure you). Nothing says good times like getting home exactly at midnight, as though I were Cinderella. Sadly, no Prince Charming has yet come by to see if my foot fits into some second-hand shoe yet. Though it is shortly after midnight. I'm talking shit. I should sleep.
On my new bed! Yea!
I went to buy sheets today and originally put them straight onto the bed, but then decided I should wash them first. This was time consuming, but I'm sure it will be worth it, especially since the sheets smelled a bit vinegary. I'm minutes away from jumping onto the bed and sprawling.
I enjoy the Irish Heather a great deal. Have I mentioned that before?
Remind me never to go to Ikea again. It sucks my paychecks up like a vacuum. I just wanted a couple sheets and a hanging organising thing, and wound up spending twice as much as I wanted to. Like Costco, it's hard to stay focused on what you need, resulting in fulfilling what you want.
If tomorrow is an Oilers game and you're invited to a barbeque, the people should either understand that you can't go because of the game, being Edmontonians, or they should excuse you at their house and allow you to watch the game. If not, go to the bbq, punch them out, and leave in time to see the puck drop, preferably grabbing a few beers in the process. Though, as previously mentioned, I'm pumped full of Strongbow, which makes me close to being clinically insane.
I hope there are no spelling mistakes. I hate spelling incorrectly, regardless of my state.
Currently reading :
The Catch
By Mark Mason
Release date: 31 January, 2004
On my new bed! Yea!
I went to buy sheets today and originally put them straight onto the bed, but then decided I should wash them first. This was time consuming, but I'm sure it will be worth it, especially since the sheets smelled a bit vinegary. I'm minutes away from jumping onto the bed and sprawling.
I enjoy the Irish Heather a great deal. Have I mentioned that before?
Remind me never to go to Ikea again. It sucks my paychecks up like a vacuum. I just wanted a couple sheets and a hanging organising thing, and wound up spending twice as much as I wanted to. Like Costco, it's hard to stay focused on what you need, resulting in fulfilling what you want.
If tomorrow is an Oilers game and you're invited to a barbeque, the people should either understand that you can't go because of the game, being Edmontonians, or they should excuse you at their house and allow you to watch the game. If not, go to the bbq, punch them out, and leave in time to see the puck drop, preferably grabbing a few beers in the process. Though, as previously mentioned, I'm pumped full of Strongbow, which makes me close to being clinically insane.
I hope there are no spelling mistakes. I hate spelling incorrectly, regardless of my state.
Currently reading :
The Catch
By Mark Mason
Release date: 31 January, 2004
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
in the cards
(Note: this statement does not come from the fact that I'm listening to what I'm listening to right now. Emo doesn't affect me. I think. I hope. Oh, crap, I'm not emo, I swear.)
I am becoming the most boring person I know. This really isn't that hard, I suppose, considering how excessively interesting the people I know are. But still... this isn't a great development.
Look, I have proof.
The latest excitement for me: buying a bed. The transaction was completed last Saturday and it should arrive on my doorstep on Friday. I've been sleeping on the same bed for almost 15 years and figured it was about time to graduate to a grownup bed. It's a good reason to get new sheets. You know, before I stop having disposable income and all. And since the numerologist clearly said I'd be meeting someone marriageable in the next couple of years... Might as well plan ahead.
Yes, the numerologist said. So, this alleged guy needs to be shorter than 6'5" or so to fit into the bed. That's really limiting. But he's also supposed to be someone I meet through work. Everyone at work seems to be short. This probably won't be the problem. If I'm working where I think I'll be working I suspect most of the men will be of the gay variety. But this, also, won't be the problem. The potential problem is that it's OK if I cheat on him with my actual soulmate, who will saunter into my life a few years later. The numerologist said I could settle for either. Charming. I'm so like that anyway, a cheater and settler.
Numerologists sure are helpful. My life is all planned out for me and all I had to do to ready myself for it was to buy a bed and now everything else will fall into place.
Did I mention the numerologist outlined my future when I was still living in Japan, and that it was all translated by my J-friend who, I admit, is very good at translation? I'd be very surprised if it all unfolded as she said, though she was right about my work situation and the school thing...
Other thrilling developments in my life, aside from the unhealthy stock in paranormal info:
1) I started hanging pictures around the apartment. With nails. And no tape measure. They might be crooked, but I'm just excited to see them up.
2) I've managed to use my dishwasher thrice since moving in. I purchased two types of dishwashing agents to see which of the two is going to win this round of competition. Next I'll be testing some of the gels, which really seem sort of bad and abnormal, but promise no streaks. Which, suddenly, seems really important.
3) Apparently, since I didn't get tickets to the Tony Bourdain reading last Sunday, I'll almost for sure be able to go to the Doug Coupland reading in a couple weeks. DCoup!
4) The Grates are playing at Limerick Junction on the 30th! They opened for We Are Scientists and were FUN!!! Aerobic workout on stage a la Jane Fonda! Wanna come with?
5) The damage deposit on the old place FINALLY showed up in the mail today with a kind note from my old landlord.
6) Today I finished a literary chick lit book, a take on "Persuasion," which, of course, I love. JA is rad. It wasn't so obvious as the movies are when they adapt her work, like Clueless.
7) I still can't find the frickin' cord for my frickin' digicam so I can frickin' download my frickin' pictures. Frick!
I totally refuse to listen to anything from Chris Carrabba except for the LP "The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most." Refuse. He makes me cry big salty tears into old books.
Currently listening :
The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most
By Dashboard Confessional
Release date: 20 March, 2001
I am becoming the most boring person I know. This really isn't that hard, I suppose, considering how excessively interesting the people I know are. But still... this isn't a great development.
Look, I have proof.
The latest excitement for me: buying a bed. The transaction was completed last Saturday and it should arrive on my doorstep on Friday. I've been sleeping on the same bed for almost 15 years and figured it was about time to graduate to a grownup bed. It's a good reason to get new sheets. You know, before I stop having disposable income and all. And since the numerologist clearly said I'd be meeting someone marriageable in the next couple of years... Might as well plan ahead.
Yes, the numerologist said. So, this alleged guy needs to be shorter than 6'5" or so to fit into the bed. That's really limiting. But he's also supposed to be someone I meet through work. Everyone at work seems to be short. This probably won't be the problem. If I'm working where I think I'll be working I suspect most of the men will be of the gay variety. But this, also, won't be the problem. The potential problem is that it's OK if I cheat on him with my actual soulmate, who will saunter into my life a few years later. The numerologist said I could settle for either. Charming. I'm so like that anyway, a cheater and settler.
Numerologists sure are helpful. My life is all planned out for me and all I had to do to ready myself for it was to buy a bed and now everything else will fall into place.
Did I mention the numerologist outlined my future when I was still living in Japan, and that it was all translated by my J-friend who, I admit, is very good at translation? I'd be very surprised if it all unfolded as she said, though she was right about my work situation and the school thing...
Other thrilling developments in my life, aside from the unhealthy stock in paranormal info:
1) I started hanging pictures around the apartment. With nails. And no tape measure. They might be crooked, but I'm just excited to see them up.
2) I've managed to use my dishwasher thrice since moving in. I purchased two types of dishwashing agents to see which of the two is going to win this round of competition. Next I'll be testing some of the gels, which really seem sort of bad and abnormal, but promise no streaks. Which, suddenly, seems really important.
3) Apparently, since I didn't get tickets to the Tony Bourdain reading last Sunday, I'll almost for sure be able to go to the Doug Coupland reading in a couple weeks. DCoup!
4) The Grates are playing at Limerick Junction on the 30th! They opened for We Are Scientists and were FUN!!! Aerobic workout on stage a la Jane Fonda! Wanna come with?
5) The damage deposit on the old place FINALLY showed up in the mail today with a kind note from my old landlord.
6) Today I finished a literary chick lit book, a take on "Persuasion," which, of course, I love. JA is rad. It wasn't so obvious as the movies are when they adapt her work, like Clueless.
7) I still can't find the frickin' cord for my frickin' digicam so I can frickin' download my frickin' pictures. Frick!
I totally refuse to listen to anything from Chris Carrabba except for the LP "The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most." Refuse. He makes me cry big salty tears into old books.
Currently listening :
The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most
By Dashboard Confessional
Release date: 20 March, 2001
Saturday, June 10, 2006
let's go, oilers
I love the CBC so much.
Right now I'm watching Game 7 of the 1987 Stanley Cup playoffs, Edmonton vs. Philadelphia. I don't even care that it's on so late at night; I'm just excited to see it on the regular CBC. This was the height of my obsession with the Oilers, them being my favourite team since I was around 4 or 5. Every Saturday night we'd scarf down dinner and then watch the game. When the Oliers played, Mom would let us have a TV dinner, pulling out the flowered TV trays and sitting in a row along the couch.
Some of my earliest memories are of sitting in the crook in front of Dad while he sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, playing Solitaire with a rye and water set to the left side, watching the game. The rhythmic movement of when he slapped down the cards mixed with the sound of Hockey Night in Canada. Even still when I watch HNiC I think of my dad.
The 1987 series was fantastic. It was the glory years of the Oilers with all the big names: Gretzky, Anderson, McSorley, MacTavish, Messier, Huddy, Coffey, Kurri, Tikkanen, Fuhr. Game 7 was in Edmonton and was action-packed. The ice was cleaner (read: no advertising), the players faster, the goalies more like regular players with just a bit more padding. The reason I think this series was so fantastic, aside from the Oilers totally winning it at home in Game 7, was that Ron Hextall, the goalie for the Flyers, was totally starting to lose it. He'd always been a bit of a lose cannon, being one of the few goalies to get into fist fights (yes, plural) on the ice, but the Oilers started running him when he went for his little skates to the corners to handle the puck. He just started hitting people with his stick and punching guys from behind if they were in his way. It's sort of hilarious to see a goalie get that nutty. And he was huge; like, 6'3".
I'm hoping this will be good luck for the Oilers later today. There are some similarities between the 1987 team and the current lineup (the speed and passing, mainly), but the one problem is that Fuhr was looking pretty good in net and the Oilers now... not really anyone they can count on since Rollie got knocked out. But I'm still hopeful.
Holy cow, the announcer just talked about the Celtics/Pistons series from 1987. The Celtics beat the Pistons to go to the finals. This was my other obsession during the same time, the Boston Celtics. My sister and I were Celtics fans for years (especially the Larry Bird years, the whitest basketball player in history) and they always wound up in the playoffs against the Detroit Pistons, the most loathed team in the Eastern Conference. Dennis Rodman was the sixth man and wore shorty shorts and white socks pulled up to his knees. What happened to you, Dennis?
The planets are aligning. It's all coming together.
Right now I'm watching Game 7 of the 1987 Stanley Cup playoffs, Edmonton vs. Philadelphia. I don't even care that it's on so late at night; I'm just excited to see it on the regular CBC. This was the height of my obsession with the Oilers, them being my favourite team since I was around 4 or 5. Every Saturday night we'd scarf down dinner and then watch the game. When the Oliers played, Mom would let us have a TV dinner, pulling out the flowered TV trays and sitting in a row along the couch.
Some of my earliest memories are of sitting in the crook in front of Dad while he sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, playing Solitaire with a rye and water set to the left side, watching the game. The rhythmic movement of when he slapped down the cards mixed with the sound of Hockey Night in Canada. Even still when I watch HNiC I think of my dad.
The 1987 series was fantastic. It was the glory years of the Oilers with all the big names: Gretzky, Anderson, McSorley, MacTavish, Messier, Huddy, Coffey, Kurri, Tikkanen, Fuhr. Game 7 was in Edmonton and was action-packed. The ice was cleaner (read: no advertising), the players faster, the goalies more like regular players with just a bit more padding. The reason I think this series was so fantastic, aside from the Oilers totally winning it at home in Game 7, was that Ron Hextall, the goalie for the Flyers, was totally starting to lose it. He'd always been a bit of a lose cannon, being one of the few goalies to get into fist fights (yes, plural) on the ice, but the Oilers started running him when he went for his little skates to the corners to handle the puck. He just started hitting people with his stick and punching guys from behind if they were in his way. It's sort of hilarious to see a goalie get that nutty. And he was huge; like, 6'3".
I'm hoping this will be good luck for the Oilers later today. There are some similarities between the 1987 team and the current lineup (the speed and passing, mainly), but the one problem is that Fuhr was looking pretty good in net and the Oilers now... not really anyone they can count on since Rollie got knocked out. But I'm still hopeful.
Holy cow, the announcer just talked about the Celtics/Pistons series from 1987. The Celtics beat the Pistons to go to the finals. This was my other obsession during the same time, the Boston Celtics. My sister and I were Celtics fans for years (especially the Larry Bird years, the whitest basketball player in history) and they always wound up in the playoffs against the Detroit Pistons, the most loathed team in the Eastern Conference. Dennis Rodman was the sixth man and wore shorty shorts and white socks pulled up to his knees. What happened to you, Dennis?
The planets are aligning. It's all coming together.
Thursday, June 8, 2006
let's shred
I suspect I'm getting old. In a bad way.
Last night I went to Costco and purchased a paper shredder (among other large-sized things). This was exciting. I was anxious to try it out, but phoned my friend David for his (belated) birthday instead. I did, however, eye the shredder while we spoke. (Sorry, David! So easily I'm distracted.)
I had a shredder that my sister gave me for my last birthday, but I guess I used it too much because it died months ago. I don't know if it found the stuff I was shredding offensive or too dull (or maybe it wanted to destroy itself rather than reside in the basement suite), but it couldn't handle it. And it only cut into strips, so I felt a little nervous that crackheads or people on crystal meth could piece the paper together and steal my identity. That's a problem, apparently. I had been meaning to take a bag of paper to be shredded to work so I could use one of the heavy duty shredders, but just hadn't gotten around to it. Now I don't have to.
Today I started shredding paper. It also does cross-cuts for extra protection. It was awesome good times. This, I suspect, is a problem. It makes me feel either very simple or very old. Getting excited about a shredder...
I was offered $10 for access to the shredder at random times, though. I could turn a profit if I charged to shred people's paper. Hmmm...
All I need is a metal file cabinet and a short bookshelf and I could have the makings of a home office. If only I needed a home office for something. Did I mention I'm also excited about the desk I bought? Oh ya, and I'm a dork.
I think I need to start having dinner parties. I can't seem to fill my dishwasher fast enough on my own and I also wind up buying enormous containers of salad that I couldn't even dream of finishing before it goes bad. I need assistance. As do the Oilers.
C'mon, boys. Score some frickin' goals already.
Vancouverites: The Skatomatics CD release party at the Lamplighter on Saturday. Be there or be paisley, which is code word for loserish. Let's skank.
Currently listening :
Waiting for the Real Thing
By The Pointed Sticks
Release date: 09 May, 2006
Last night I went to Costco and purchased a paper shredder (among other large-sized things). This was exciting. I was anxious to try it out, but phoned my friend David for his (belated) birthday instead. I did, however, eye the shredder while we spoke. (Sorry, David! So easily I'm distracted.)
I had a shredder that my sister gave me for my last birthday, but I guess I used it too much because it died months ago. I don't know if it found the stuff I was shredding offensive or too dull (or maybe it wanted to destroy itself rather than reside in the basement suite), but it couldn't handle it. And it only cut into strips, so I felt a little nervous that crackheads or people on crystal meth could piece the paper together and steal my identity. That's a problem, apparently. I had been meaning to take a bag of paper to be shredded to work so I could use one of the heavy duty shredders, but just hadn't gotten around to it. Now I don't have to.
Today I started shredding paper. It also does cross-cuts for extra protection. It was awesome good times. This, I suspect, is a problem. It makes me feel either very simple or very old. Getting excited about a shredder...
I was offered $10 for access to the shredder at random times, though. I could turn a profit if I charged to shred people's paper. Hmmm...
All I need is a metal file cabinet and a short bookshelf and I could have the makings of a home office. If only I needed a home office for something. Did I mention I'm also excited about the desk I bought? Oh ya, and I'm a dork.
I think I need to start having dinner parties. I can't seem to fill my dishwasher fast enough on my own and I also wind up buying enormous containers of salad that I couldn't even dream of finishing before it goes bad. I need assistance. As do the Oilers.
C'mon, boys. Score some frickin' goals already.
Vancouverites: The Skatomatics CD release party at the Lamplighter on Saturday. Be there or be paisley, which is code word for loserish. Let's skank.
Currently listening :
Waiting for the Real Thing
By The Pointed Sticks
Release date: 09 May, 2006
Sunday, June 4, 2006
the battle with nature
As I left the house this afternoon a crow flew awfully close to me and caw-cawed loudly at me. Then another one flew ahead of me and did the same, like they were trying to corner me or something. How can I not dislike crows when they so obviously want to suck my sweet ocular juices? I have images of "The Birds" whenever I see more than one. I'm not afraid to admit it: I fear the crows. That they hang out so close to my house terrifies me.
Something that has been concerning me the last few months that I didn't want to mention but now feel I must because it's becoming more and more regular is that either I am part-skunk or there's a skunk posse following me around. Or a lot of people have really shitty smelling pot everywhere I go. Last night my sister drove me home along Lougheed and around St. Catharines there was an overwhelming skunk smell for almost two blocks. I didn't see any roadkill. In my (now) old apartment I would sometimes be awoken by the smell of skunk and just assumed one was wandering around outside my window. But then I walk around town and will suddenly smell skunk. It's just so weird. The only place I've ever seen packs of roaming skunks is in the West End, not around East Van. I don't believe I smell like skunk, and if I did would I even know? Probably not because I'd be so used to the smell. So... where is this horrendous smell coming from? Perhaps my watcher is a skunk.
There's a cute little orange and white cat that sits on my patio and tries to get into my house when the door is open. I can't tell if the cat is just sociable or if he/she used to live in this apartment and is trying to come home. I wish I could like him/her, but she makes me sneeze.
I met a pug on Saturday. She was fun; we wrestled with her toy. She growled and dug her teeth into the toy and I lifted her up and swung her around. Then I petted her for a bit and couldn't get the smell of pug off my hands. And she made me sneeze.
Did I mention I'm allergic to animals? This is an adulthood development: allergies. It's slightly less than rad.
Are other people not on drugs paranoid of animals or is it just me? I don't feel like I can trust them.
Currently listening :
Boo-Boo
By Flin Flon
Release date: 29 December, 2000
Something that has been concerning me the last few months that I didn't want to mention but now feel I must because it's becoming more and more regular is that either I am part-skunk or there's a skunk posse following me around. Or a lot of people have really shitty smelling pot everywhere I go. Last night my sister drove me home along Lougheed and around St. Catharines there was an overwhelming skunk smell for almost two blocks. I didn't see any roadkill. In my (now) old apartment I would sometimes be awoken by the smell of skunk and just assumed one was wandering around outside my window. But then I walk around town and will suddenly smell skunk. It's just so weird. The only place I've ever seen packs of roaming skunks is in the West End, not around East Van. I don't believe I smell like skunk, and if I did would I even know? Probably not because I'd be so used to the smell. So... where is this horrendous smell coming from? Perhaps my watcher is a skunk.
There's a cute little orange and white cat that sits on my patio and tries to get into my house when the door is open. I can't tell if the cat is just sociable or if he/she used to live in this apartment and is trying to come home. I wish I could like him/her, but she makes me sneeze.
I met a pug on Saturday. She was fun; we wrestled with her toy. She growled and dug her teeth into the toy and I lifted her up and swung her around. Then I petted her for a bit and couldn't get the smell of pug off my hands. And she made me sneeze.
Did I mention I'm allergic to animals? This is an adulthood development: allergies. It's slightly less than rad.
Are other people not on drugs paranoid of animals or is it just me? I don't feel like I can trust them.
Currently listening :
Boo-Boo
By Flin Flon
Release date: 29 December, 2000
Friday, June 2, 2006
rodently challenged
OK, check it. I'm not working today. I am currently at home. I am on my computer. You know what that means?
I found my mouse! It's a grand day.
How lame am I that the thought of two days off with no computer access made me rifle through all my boxes again (for, like, the 4th or 5th time this week) until I finally devised a plan to allow me to, no matter what, get a mouse? Because that's what I did. My friend Rachel offered to hunt down the extra one at her house and we planned a meet-up this morning (early, even) so I could waste hours upon hours attached to my makeshift desk at some point today. I'd given up on finding my own mouse; it hid itself well. Then I looked into the box with my library books ("They're just library books. Why would anyone put a mouse in with library books?") and there it was, hidden in the corner. And now I feel moved in. That something so simple as being able to use my computer at home makes me this happy is lame. Millions of people manage to live lives exclusive of computers, yet one week without makes me insane.
The house is looking OK. There are still loads of boxes everywhere (where did all this stuff come from?!), but my boudoir is basically unpacked and sorted, as are my books. The next two big projects are figuring what to do with the music and fabric collections. Eek. Shortly I will be off to look for some sort of attractively-designed, poorly-made Swedish furniture items to assist in these projects. The house should be looking homey in another week or so. That's the plan anyway. I might even buy a bed and stay a while!
One thing that really excites me is being able to frame and hang a few prints I've moved flat twice before. The one, I realised, was made by a guy I used to sorta work with at the paper. It's a sun and candy. Candy! He's since more or less given up on art stuff in favour of giving journalism a try, which is just a crying shame. Fantastic artist and fakely offensive: http://www.zardex.com/pals/winters/index.html
Oh, I went to my local grocery store just now and while perusing the selection (Avalon milk! Island Farms yogurt!), I stopped in my tracks. The song playing at that exact moment.... you'll never guess. ... I was SO excited..... "China Boys" by The Payola$!!!! And I register for classes on Monday! I'm afraid lightning is going to strike me down any second, so I'm trying to stick close to trees and tall buildings.
Currently listening :
Superman
By Astrud
Release date: 28 March, 2000
I found my mouse! It's a grand day.
How lame am I that the thought of two days off with no computer access made me rifle through all my boxes again (for, like, the 4th or 5th time this week) until I finally devised a plan to allow me to, no matter what, get a mouse? Because that's what I did. My friend Rachel offered to hunt down the extra one at her house and we planned a meet-up this morning (early, even) so I could waste hours upon hours attached to my makeshift desk at some point today. I'd given up on finding my own mouse; it hid itself well. Then I looked into the box with my library books ("They're just library books. Why would anyone put a mouse in with library books?") and there it was, hidden in the corner. And now I feel moved in. That something so simple as being able to use my computer at home makes me this happy is lame. Millions of people manage to live lives exclusive of computers, yet one week without makes me insane.
The house is looking OK. There are still loads of boxes everywhere (where did all this stuff come from?!), but my boudoir is basically unpacked and sorted, as are my books. The next two big projects are figuring what to do with the music and fabric collections. Eek. Shortly I will be off to look for some sort of attractively-designed, poorly-made Swedish furniture items to assist in these projects. The house should be looking homey in another week or so. That's the plan anyway. I might even buy a bed and stay a while!
One thing that really excites me is being able to frame and hang a few prints I've moved flat twice before. The one, I realised, was made by a guy I used to sorta work with at the paper. It's a sun and candy. Candy! He's since more or less given up on art stuff in favour of giving journalism a try, which is just a crying shame. Fantastic artist and fakely offensive: http://www.zardex.com/pals/winters/index.html
Oh, I went to my local grocery store just now and while perusing the selection (Avalon milk! Island Farms yogurt!), I stopped in my tracks. The song playing at that exact moment.... you'll never guess. ... I was SO excited..... "China Boys" by The Payola$!!!! And I register for classes on Monday! I'm afraid lightning is going to strike me down any second, so I'm trying to stick close to trees and tall buildings.
Currently listening :
Superman
By Astrud
Release date: 28 March, 2000
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)